Hush Little Lamb
by kittykitty76
Summary: Suppose Hannibal had a daughter...
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Clarice Starling, or Hannibal Lecter. I am not profiting at all from this story, just writing it for fun. I DO, however, own Hanna Clara Lencharint, Melinda Lyle, Mimren Wizt, and the other passle of original characters in the story.   


About the story: It starts out a bit slow, but trust me, it gets more exiting. 

And now to the story...

Clarice woke with a start. She was drenched with sweat, and tears ran down her face. Her breath was fast, as if she'd been running. She'd had the same dream, the dream with the lambs. The cries still echoed in her head. The room was pitch black. She tried to remember where she was. The cries were still there. She could still hear it. She sat up in the bed, and she remembered-She was in England. Her hand went to the other side of the kingsize bed, but she felt only sheets and blankets, no warm comforting body to sooth her, to take her in his arms and tell her she was safe, that it was all a bad dream. The cry still filled the air. She got out of bed, and walked slowly towards the sound. She saw a dim light down the hallway, and went to the room. Before she got there, she heard a deep voice singing softly. 

"Hush, little lamb, your daddy is here. You'll always be safe, there's nothing to fear." He sang. "Hush, little lamb, yes, silence your screams. I've got you, so sleep, and have many sweet dreams." 

Clarice bit her lip, torn between a smile and a frown, and peeked into the room. Hannibal was sitting in a rocking chair, their tiny daughter in his arms. Her wails were softer, and soon they were down to a whimper.   
"Is she hungry?" Clarice asked softly.  
"No, she just wanted some help getting back to sleep." Hannibal said. "What are you doing up? Have you been crying?" He asked, looking at her.  
"Bad dream." Clarice said, coming into the nursery.

"You go back to bed." Hannibal told her. "You need your rest."  
"I want to hold Hanna." Clarice said.  
Hannibal glanced down. "She's nearly asleep."   
"But not all the way. Let me finish rocking her." Clarice said. "I haven't gotten to spend any time with her at all." Hannibal smiled. "She's only a few days old. There wasn't that much time for you to spend with her."  
"It seems like longer." Clarice said as she took the new-born in her arms and sat down. Hanna Clara whimpered a bit louder, but when she was comfortably situated in her mother's arms, she soon fell asleep.  
"Such a sweet little Lamb." Hannibal whispered.  
"I wish you wouldn't call her that." Clarice said. She got up and put her daughter in the oak crib, covering her tiny body with a pink knit blanket. Hanna stirred, but didn't cry. Hannibal led Clarice out of the room.  
"What was the dream about?" Hannibal asked when they got back to their bedroom.  
"The lambs." Clarice said, sitting down on the bed. "I'm serious when I told you I don't want you calling her your 'lamb'. I also hate that lullaby you made up. I know you did it to bother me."  
"Not to bother you." Hannibal said. "To HELP you. If you can replace your image of lambs from a bad incident to our daughter, I think you'd be able to get over this."  
Clarice sighed. "Couldn't you have done it with something else?"  
"Only if you can take something else, put it as your first priority, the thing you love the most." Hannibal sat down next to her, pulling her close. He felt her tense when he touched her, but she relaxed almost immediately. Hannibal couldn't very well blame her. One of his biggest fears was that her decision to go with him was based on the fact that she was doped up on morphine that night. He was sort of right: She decided to stay with him once she was in her right mind, but she had been extremely jumpy for a while, and very formal. It had been nearly a year after they'd left Paul Krendler's lake house before they became lovers. Hannibal had proposed a few times, but Clarice had always declined, stating that their alias's were married, and it wasn't necessary for them to be. She still had doubts, in the back of her mind, even if she didn't acknowledge them. There marriage would be the final step, once she felt totally safe with him.  
"Hannibal?" She asked sleepily.  
"Yes, Clarice?" He asked.

"We need to start calling each other by our aliases." Clarice said. "Or we might confuse Hanna. Or she might spill our secret unintentionally. And we should start now, so we can get used to it before she starts to comprehend words and phrases."  
"Clever. I should have thought of that myself, Clarice... I'm sorry, I meant to say Celcira."  
"I'm tired," She said, yawning. She wiggled out of his grasp, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and snuggled under the down quilt. He went to his side of the bed and climbed in, flipping off the lamp.  
"Goodnight, Able Lencharint." She said.  
"Goodnight, Celcira." He replied.

The phone rang, and Hannibal picked it up quickly before it could disturb Clarice or Hanna Clara. "Hello?"  
"Able!" A female voice cried. "How are you?"  
"Hello, Mimren." Hannibal sighed. This woman was REALLY getting on his nerves.  
"I was curious as to why you haven't been at the University in the last few days." Mimren Wizt was a psychology professor at the college where Hannibal taught history. "You aren't ill, are you? Celcira really should take better care of you."  
"Celcira gave birth to our daughter on Tuesday." Hannibal said. He smiled, imagining the look on Mimren's face.  
"Oh..." Her voice had a definite tone of dissapointment. "What's her name?"  
"Hanna Clara Lencharint. Listen, I really have to go..."  
"Oh, yes. Of course. Well, I'll have to come by and see her. Mind if I stop by later this afternoon?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Yes, this afternoon. Well, I'll see you later. Bye." And she hung up.  
"Who was that?" Clarice asked, coming into his office.  
"Mimren." Hannibal said.  
"Oh. What did she want?"  
"She wanted to know why I hadn't been at work."   
"Do you love her?" Clarice asked.

"Of course not!" Hannibal said, shocked.  
"We aren't married. If you want to be with her, I won't mind." Clarice said.  
"Liar." Hannibal said. "And what I want is her with a side of potato's. Clarice, I do not love her. I do not like her."  
"I believe you. But don't eat her." Clarice said. "Please."  
"Why not?" Hannibal asked. "I'd be doing the world a favor."  
"For me, please." She begged. "I wish you would give it up all together. I'm so scared someone's going to catch you."  
"You're the only one who ever got close enough." He said.  
"Then why did you spend 8 years with Chilton?"  
"I was young. I made a mistake. I'm much wiser now." He said.

"I still don't like the odds." She told him. "I'm going to go check on Hanna." She left the room. A few minutes later, she came in with the infant, sat down and began to nurse her. "I don't want her to end up like I did." Clarice said.  
"How so?" Hannibal asked.  
"I was orphaned, because my father risked his life, and lost it. I went to live with cousins, and went through an ordeal that I've never been able to forget, no matter how hard I try. I went to an orphanage after that, and worked in the FBI, where I met a sociopath that seemed to enjoy digging up my horrible memories, and STILL won't let me forget them. I'm not even going to go into the rest, as you know everything." Clarice said.  
Hannibal nodded thoughtfully. "I see your point." He said. "I'll consider it. I promise I'll be more careful. But even if I'm gone, she'll have an exorbent amount of money that should support her for her entire life, and besides, she'll always have you to take care of her."  



	2. The lamb grows older...

~~~~Years later~~~

Hanna Clara got out of her car and paused for a second, looking up at her house. Her cat rubbed against her leg, and she stooped down to pick her up. "Hello, Dear one." She said, rubbing her face in Kitty's fur. She went inside and put the cat down. She turned on the light of the den, and the first thing she saw was the large portrait of her mother. She looked at it for a moment, then turned away. Celcira Lencharint, also known as Clarice Starling, had died six years before in a car crash because of a drunk driver. Hanna and her father had been devastated, and for a long time, couldn't keep control of their lives. A few weeks after the funeral, Hannibal had killed the driver, and Hanna had watched. She remembered the look of fear in his eyes, a small condolence to the loss she felt. But when the monster had died, everything seemed to be much better, and the two had been able to go back to living. Hannibal had taken one of his favorite sketches, the one of Clarice holding a lamb, and had it enlarged and framed. It captured her beauty perfectly. Hanna dropped her book bag down next to the door, put a New Age C.d. in the stereo, and plopped down into her fathers favorite arm chair. She sighed in content when she caught the scent of his cologne. Just at that moment, she heard the front door open, and she got up to greet him. "Hello, Father!" She said, running into his waiting arms. Hannibal Lecter smiled down at his daughter. She looked almost exactly like Clarice, save for her eyes, which were exactly like his.

"Good afternoon, Hanna Clara. How was your day?" Hanna looked up at her father. He had gray hair, and some wrinkles around his eyes, but he had aged gracefully for a man who had recently turned 70.

"It was ok. I couldn't wait to get home and find out about this surprise you had for me! Melinda and I spent all day trying to figure it out!" She spoke of her best friend, Melinda Lyle.

"And what did you two come up with?" He asked, amused.

"Well..." Hanna smiled, and pulled away, walking towards the kitchen. "You told me to get out one of my evening gowns, so we're either going to a play, opera, or a concert."

"Not bad." Hannibal said, rubbing his chin. "But you didn't get it."

"Well, what is it?!?" Hanna asked, exasperated. 

"It's a surprise, my Lamb." He laughed. "You really need to learn patience. Now come show me which dress you picked." Hanna lead him upstairs to her room, and showed him the pale blue dress. It was simple, yet elegant, and the skirt went to her knees, and flared. "Ah, perfect. Here," He pulled a small box from his pocket. "I have something that will go perfectly with it." He opened the box, exposing a silver necklace with a single diamond in the center, surrounded by sapphires.

"Father! It's absolutly beautiful!" She gasped, looking up at him in disbelief. 

"I figured it was about time for you to have some diamonds. You're a young lady now. You are 18 now." Hannibal stroked her hair, just a few shades away from Clarice's, and she hugged him.

"You shouldn't have, father!" She said, taking the necklace.

"I wanted to." He shrugged. "We'll leave in about two hours. That should give you time to get ready."  
Hanna hugged him again. "Thank you!"

He smiled, and left, going to his room. His tux was already laid out, so he walked out to the balcony. He gripped the railing, remembering how he used to watch the cars go by with Clarice. He reached into his pocket and took out the little jewelry box he always carried with him. The day Clarice died, Hannibal had proposed to her... and she'd accepted. He opened the box, and fingered the white gold ring embedded with diamonds. 

"Why did you leave me, Clarice?" He whispered. He often came out here, asking. "Was this my punishment? They used to take away my drawings and books. Is that why they took you away?" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned away.

Hannibal and Hanna Clara walked into the ballroom. Hanna laughed when she saw it. "Ballroom dancing! Oh, father, what fun! We haven't gone dancing in such a long time!"

Hannibal smiled. He loved to see her happy. He brought her to the dance floor, and they began to dance with the rest of the crowd. 

When the song was over, they sat down at their table. Hanna smiled brightly as she chattered away to her father, when suddenly her face fell into a frown, she stopped talking mid-sentence, and she stared beyond her father.

"What's SHE doing here?" Hanna asked, her voice dripping with hatred.

Hannibal turned, and saw Mimren Wizt behind them. She spotted them, and hurried over.   
"Oh, dear." Hannibal shook his head. Mimren had worked with him at the University before he had retired, and had hit on him constantly. She now taught high school, where Hanna Clara had the misfortune of having her as a teacher.

"Able!" Mimren said when she got to the table. "What a surprise! I didn't know you came here!"  
Hannibal looked at her. "I came here quite often with Celcira."   
Hanna watched with amusement as Mimren's face fell. "Oh... Well, how are you, Hanna?" She said, turning.

"I'm doing quite well, thank you." Hanna said politely. 

"I hope you've chosen a topic for your report. And I certainly hope it's better than the last one." Mimren said. 

Hannibal broke in. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe that this is time to discuss schoolwork."   
"Yes." Hanna said, "Father and I are here to enjoy ourselves." The music started up again, and Hanna stood up. "Come father, I love this dance!"   
Hannibal left the table with his daughter. When they were on the dance floor, he said "I'm so sorry, Lamb. If I had known she would be here, I would have gotten tickets for a different night."  
Hanna sighed. "It's ok, Father. Maybe if we ignore her, she'll go away."   
Hannibal laughed. "I've been trying that for over 18 years now, and it hasn't worked yet."  
After a few minutes, Mimren tapped Hanna on the shoulder. "May I cut in?" She asked.

Hanna looked at her father, and he rolled his eyes when Mimren wasn't looking, so Hanna stepped aside. "Go on ahead, Mrs. Wizt."  
Hanna stepped away as she heard her teacher exclaim "Able, you do look dashing tonight!" Hanna bit her lip, wishing Mimren Wizt would drop dead.


	3. Life With The Lamb

Ok, y'all, this part is a bit mundane, and there isn't much action, but trust me,

it's very important to the story line. The next chapter will be more action-packed.

~~~Next day~~~

Hannibal was sitting, reading the newspaper, when he heard someone coming up the 

steps. It wasn't Hanna Clara, and after a second, he knew it was Melinda Lyle. 

He smiled, put down the newspaper, and was very still. The door opened and 

closed, and he didn't even breathe. He heard her sniff the air, and she walked 

slowly over to the chair. "Good afternoon, Professor Lencharint." She said.

"Can't fool you, can I?" He asked, standing up and lightly kissing her hand.

"Not when you wear that strong cologne." She said, taking off her sunglasses, 

exposing her glazed eyes. Melinda was totally blind. "Is Hanna here yet?"

"No, she'll be home soon, though. Sit down." 

"Thank you." Melinda put her cane down and moved over to the couch. 

"So what brings you here?" Hannibal asked.

"Hanna asked me to spend the night tonight. Did she not tell you?" Melinda 

sounded worried.

"Oh, yes. That's right. I must have forgotten." Hannibal said.

"Hanna told me that you took her Ballroom dancing last night. Was it fun?" 

Melinda leaned forward in her seat. 

"Oh, yes. Except for little detail..." Hannibal said.

"You mean Mrs. Wizt?" Melinda asked, making a face.

"Yes. But we still had fun. Would you like something to eat?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh, a soda would be nice. Oh, no." She said when she heard his chair creak. 

"Don't get up, I can get it. On the door of the fridge, right?" She rose and got 

to the kitchen effortlessly. She knew her way around the Lencharint home almost 

as well as she did her own. She felt for a can, and holding one up, asked "Is 

this it?"

"A diet drink." He told her.

"Thats fine." She came back and sat down again.

"What's tonight's plan?" Hannibal asked.

"Oh, Hanna rented a movie." Melinda said. "She'll talk me through the quiet 

parts."

"Ah." They sat in silence for a moment.

"Can I touch your face?" Melinda asked suddenly.

"Pardon?" Hannibal was surprised.

"May I touch your face? See what you look like?" She asked again. "I've known 

you ever sense I was a little girl, and I can't remember feeling your face. I 

hope it's not an impertinent question." She asked.

"Oh, don't be silly, dear. Of course you may." He moved over to her, and took 

her left hand with his. She unconsciously rubbed the place where his old scar 

was from the removal of his extra finger. Of course, she didn't know what that 

was from, but she knew the scar was his. It was the way she identified the hand. 

He brought her hand to his face, and she lightly brushed it over his cheeks, his 

eyes, eyelids, lips and chin. She paused at his nose, and pressed a bit harder.

`He had collagen injections.' She thought. Living in high society, many of her 

friends had done the same thing, and she could identify the feel very well. 

`Rather old, though.'

"Well?" Hannibal asked.

"Hmm?" She replied, surprised, jerking her hand away.

"What do you think?" He sounded amused.

"Oh... Nice structure around the cheekbones, well formed eye structure..." She 

told him. He chuckled and sat back.

"What's so funny?" A voice asked.

"Hello, Hanna Clara." Hannibal said.

"Hello Father, Mel." Hanna replied. "What's the joke?"

"Oh, your father just let me feel his face." Melinda said. "I just described 

what I felt. You have the same eye shape."

"Same color too." Hanna said, sitting down.

"Your eyes are maroon. What is maroon?" Melinda asked.

"It's the feel of crushed velvet." Hanna started.

"The first glass of sherry poured, from a very good year." Hannibal added. 

"And a chilly gust of air on a warm day." Hanna finished.

Melinda nodded. "I think I get it."

"You have a better feeling for colors." Hanna said, dropping her bag. "You get a 

detailed description. We take them for granted. Come on, lets go upstairs." She 

gave her father a peck on the cheek, and the two ran upstairs to Hanna's room. 

"Dinner will be at 7:30!" Hannibal called after them. 

Hanna ran into the kitchen, Melinda right behind her. "I won!" Hanna said as she 

hit the counter.

"I would have beaten you if that chair in the dining room hadn't been in my 

way." Melinda grumped. 

"Oh, I forgot to push that in." Hannibal said as he stirred the soup on the 

stove.

"Don't make excuses, Father. Mel's just not as fast a runner as I am." Hanna 

said.

"What are you cooking, Professor Lencharint?" Melinda asked, sniffing the air. 

"You should never ask. Spoil's the surprise." Hannibal said as he moved to a pan 

where a slab of meat was sizzling.

"Lets see... I smell tomato, basil, garlic... Bread... Corn bread." She said. 

"Asparagus..."

"Bravo, my dear." Hannibal said.

"What sort of meat?" Melinda asked.

"Like I said, it ruins the surprise." Hannibal repeated. "What movie did you 

girls rent?"

"A documentary." Hanna said. 

"Oh? On what? I'm sure I'd like to watch it with you." Hannibal said.

"Hanna picked it out. It's the 3rd in a series of sociopaths that got away. It's 

about Hannibal Lecter." Melinda said.

Hannibal whipped around and glared at Hanna, who winked. "It sounds 

interesting." Hannibal said, his voice cool. "I remember hearing about him, a 

long time ago."

"I'm doing my psychology term paper on him. I`m glad you got it, Hanna." Melinda 

said. "But you wouldn't believe how much information I've already found on him."

Hannibal grabbed a notepad and quickly scribbled a message onto it. It read 

"Have you lost your mind?" 

Hanna smiled, and wrote back "I thought it'd be nice to find out more about your 

early life. It'll be fun, trust me. Plus, it`s got scenes of Mummy."

Hannibal gave her a look of disapproval, but turned back to his food that was 

cooking. "We can watch it after dinner. You girls set the table."

"Plates are on the bottom shelf of the 4th cabinet?" Melinda asked, feeling her 

way to the doors.

"Right. I'll get the glasses and silver wear." Hanna said.

"That was delicious, Professor." Melinda said as she sat down on the sofa in the 

den.

"Thank you, Melinda."

"Won't you please give Mother the recipe for your liver?" She begged. 

"Ah, but if I did that, what would keep you coming here?" He asked.

"At least tell me what type of liver it is. Beef liver doesn't taste like that."

"Old family secret." Hanna said, plopping down between her father and her 

friend.

"Traitor. Did you put in the movie?" Melinda asked.

"I did, Mel." Hanna said as the music started.

Hanna smiled at her father, who was no longer disgruntled, as the video ended.

"That was cool!" Melinda said. "My favorite part was how he escaped from that 

prison. But I'm confused. How did he use the face as a mask?" 

"He had it flipped to the bloody side. It made it look as if he was a guard 

who's face had been eaten." Hanna told her.

"And Clarice Starling... She sounds so much like your mother!" Melinda told 

Hanna. "Did she look like her?"

"No." Hanna lied as she peered to the large portrait of her mother. 

Hannibal was playing the video back, on mute, watching Clarice's face on the 

screen. 

"What did you think, Professor?" Melinda asked.

"It was facinating." Hannibal said, staring at the screen, a sad look on his 

face.

"I'm glad you liked it. Next time we can get something on Multiple Miggs." Hanna 

said. "Come on, Mel, we can start working on making the rough draft."

Hannibal was working in the basement, curing some meat, when Hanna ran 

downstairs. "Ok, Mel's home." She said, opening one of the freezers.

"Good."

"And David is coming over later." She said, speaking of her boyfriend. 

"I don't like you spending time with him." Hannibal told her as she took out a 

container of fried sweetbreads. 

"Why not?" Hanna asked, turning around. "He's sweet, he's polite..."

"I heard that two more people were killed last night." Hannibal said. "I think 

he's been killing all of the people."

"Father, where did you think I was getting those fresh entrails?" Hanna asked, 

rolling her eyes. "The research work at the morgue is great, but really, it is 

SO hard to get good meat. Most of the time I can't get to the body before it's 

been embalmed."

"He's a pyscotic murderer." Hannibal said.

"So are you." Hanna said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Do as I say, not as I do, Hanna Clara." Hannibal said. 

"Of course, Father. But can I still keep the deal, that I won't tell on him as 

long as he brings me the good parts?" Hanna asked, with bambi eyes.

"Oh, all right." Hannibal laughed.

"Thank you! I'm going to nuke these, ok?" She said, gesturing to the 

sweetbreads.

"Save some for me." He said as she went upstairs.

"Hey, baby." David said as he came in.

"Hi love." Hanna kissed him.

"I brought the liver, kidney, and brains." He said, handing her a tupperwear 

container.

"Oh, you're so good to me." She said, kissing him again.

"What do you do with that stuff, anyway?" He asked. 

"It`s for my biology project." Hanna told him. "I'm glad they're letting me get 

some information at the morgue, but it's easier to study the parts when I'm not 

changing to a different one each time they have the person buried."

"Hello, David." Hannibal said walking in from the basement. "What's that you've 

got there, Hanna?"

"David stopped by the buchers shop for me." Hanna said. 

"Hello, Professor Lencharint." David nodded.

Hannibal looked at Hanna, clearing his throat.

"Um, David, lets go for a walk. I want to talk to you about something." She 

said, steering him towards the door.

"David," Hanna said, looping her arm through his as they walked down the streets 

of London.

"What is it, Love?" He asked.

"Well... I'm going to be leaving soon." She said. "For college."

"Yeah?" David asked.

"And... Well, I don't like the idea of having to try and keep a relationship 

going when we'll be away from each other." She said.

"Are you breaking up with me?" He asked, turning to her.

"No! Of course not... I just think we should be friends with privileges, instead 

of a couple." Hanna told him.

"Oh." He thought for a second.

"I love you, David. You know that." Hanna said. "But if you started to see 

another girl while I was away... Well, then it wouldn't hurt me if we were no 

longer a couple. But this way, we can still have fun."

"I see your point."

"You're not mad, are you?" Hanna asked.

"No, Love. It's a good idea. And you're so pretty, you'll have tons of beaux 

when you go to college." He said, kissing her forehead softly. 

"Friends with privileges?" She asked, holding out her hand.

"Friends with privileges." He replied, shaking hers.

"That's so formal. We should seal this another way." Hanna said, licking her 

lips as she looked him up and down.

"Have a nice walk?" Hannibal asked as Hanna entered, a few hours later.

"Yes." Hanna said.

"And you broke it off with him?" Hannibal asked.

"Well... Sort of." Hanna said, sitting on the counter. 

"What does "Sort of" mean?" Hannibal asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"We're not officially a couple anymore. We're friends." Hanna informed her 

father.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't see him at all."

"For Gods sakes, Father! He's a psychopathic murderer!" Hanna cried. "You don't 

want to make a psychopath mad! You of all people should know that."

Hannibal chuckled. "You're right, love." He said, kissing her forehead. "I have 

been known to do gruesome things to people I dislike."

"Revenge can be sweet, but I don't want him to get revenge on me." Hanna said, 

hugging him. "Anyway, David's a good way to get fresh meat. I mean, when you're 

gone, what will I do?"

"Ah, my little Lamb. So gentle. You let your men do the killing for you."

"Why get my hands dirty when I've got other people to do it for me?" Hanna 

asked. 

Hannibal ruffled her hair. "Ah, Lamb. You're so sensible."


	4. Meetings And Memories

"Hanna!" Mimren Wizt called as Hanna left her classroom.  
"Hmmm?" She turned. "Wait for me, Mel?" She asked her friend.  
"Right." Melinda said, gripping her cane.  
"I just wanted to talk to you about the research paper you're doing. I was just going over the outline you gave me. The notes."   
"The Mind of a Psychopath." Hanna said. "What's wrong with it?"  
"Some of it is fine... The information you've gotten is precise, but I find your analizations rather disturbing." Mimren said.  
"How so?" Hanna asked, stiffening.   
"Well... Here, on Sammie." Mimren said, pointing. "You said his chopping off his mothers head was a compliment."  
Hanna nodded. "Yes, he was told to give his very best to Jesus, and his Mother was the best thing he had. I think it's rather sweet, in a sense."  
Mimren stared at her student, shocked. "Um... Well, here..." She said, flipping to the next page. "With Hannibal Lec-"  
"I'm leaving. I've got another class." Hanna said, turning away. "And all of my information on Lector AND Sammie is precise." Renee Baccrim, a retired FBI agent, got some psychological reports for her on Sammie.  
"Yes... Well..." Mimren put the paper aside, and noted, not for the first time, how Hanna's eyes were the exact shade of maroon of her fathers. Melinda and Hanna left, chattering, and Mimren picked up Melinda's paper. She scanned the outline, hoping maybe she could find some inconsistencies between Melinda's information on Dr. Lector and Hanna's. She saw the physical description, and found it odd that Hannibal Lector's eyes were maroon too.  
  
Kitty jumped up on the sofa and curled up in Hanna's lap. The young woman was wearing black satin PJ's and had a cream colored cashmere blanket over her legs, stretched out on the sofa. It was a lazy sunday morning. She scratched Kitty's ears absentmindedly as she was absorbed in A Wrinkle In Time. Piano music filled the room.  
"Hanna Clara?" Hannibal called. The music stopped.  
"I'm in here, Father." She called back.   
He walked in, holding a steaming tea cup. "What're you reading, Lamb?" Hannibal asked.  
"A Wrinkle in Time. I wish you could really travel back through time by wrinkling space." She said with a sigh. Hannibal smiled, finished his tea, and dropped the cup, which shattered.  
Hanna gave him an odd look. "You drop a tea-cup whenever I speak of time travel, and you never told me why."  
"I just might do that one day." Hannibal said, teasing her. She threw a pillow at him.   
"What's for lunch?" She asked, glancing at the clock. It was 11 AM.  
"What would you like, Lamb?" Hannibal asked.  
"Can I cook?" She asked. "I'm in a culinary mood today."  
"Be my guest. I'm going down to the cellar. Want me to get anything?"  
"I'll fix a brain and kidney pie for lunch." Hanna said, entering the kitchen and retrieving the correct pans and utensils. 

"Ah, sorry Lamb, I ate the last bit of kidney last night." Hannibal said.  
"Oh." Hanna bit her lip, thinking. "Well, can you run down to the butchers shop? Beef will do in a pinch."  
"Right. Anything else?" Hannibal asked.  
"No. You go on, I'll go down and get the stuff from the cellar." Hanna worked the combination to the basement, and walked down. She heard her father leave, and she peered around the room. There were tables with all types of cutlery, from table knives to autopsy saws. There were two fridges, and one large freezer, along with the huge walk in where the full corpses were stored, which was also under lock and key. Hanna was not allowed to go in there without her father. She went to one of the fridges and retrieved a tupperwear container filled with gray meat. She looked around again, and she stopped on the cold metal vault door. She placed her ear to the door, and knocked, hearing the reverberating echo. When someone particularly upset her, she would sometimes imagine having them locked in the vault and listening to the screams, her own "Cask of Armantiado". She walked back up, and closed and locked the basement door behind her.  


"Do you remember," Hannibal asked as he watched his daughter cooking, "The time you found out we were cannibalistic?"   
Hanna smiled. "Mmmhmmm." She said, checking on the mashed potatos.   



	5. The Lamb Remembers...

  
Hanna crouched down by the wall of the pantry. Her father would be coming into the kitchen soon, and she could pop up and yell "Boo!", a game her mother had taught her. The young girl giggled with anticipation. She heard her parents talking.  
"No, Able. No more." Clarice said. "I'm putting my foot down."  
Hannibal laughed. "What are you so worried about?"  
"I'm worried that she'll end up like you." Clarice told him point blank.  
"And what's wrong with that?" Hannibal asked. "It's my cannibalism that brought us together."  
Clarice gave a cry of frustration.   
"Besides," Hannibal said. "It should be her choice, not ours. Oh, stop pouting. She doesn't like kidney."  
"But she can't get enough of the sweetbreads. And don't tell me it should be her choice. She's three years old! She's incapable of making decisions like that. I do NOT want her to wind up in a prison like you did, I do not want her to be on the Top 10 Most Wanted, I do not want her to kill people, and I DON'T WANT HER EATING HUMANS!!" Clarice yelled.  
"Boo!" Hanna shouted, jumping out. Hannibal and Clarice spun around, the look of shock on their faces very evident. "I scared you!" She said happily.  
"Hanna Clara, did you hear Mummy and Father talking?" Hannibal asked, kneeling down.  
"Uh-huh." The child nodded. "What's cabalism?"  
"Cannibalism." Hannibal corrected. "It's when someone eats a bad person." Hannibal said. 

"You're going to scare her!" Clarice exclaimed.  
"I'm not scared." Hanna informed her. "We eat bad persons?" She asked her father.

"Yes, we do, Lamb." Hannibal said gently. "But if you don't want to, you don't have to."  
"I wanna eat bad persons. Bad persons are bad." Hanna declared.  
"Darling, you shouldn't eat any people, good or bad." Clarice said.  
"Father does." Hanna said.

"Sometimes your Father is wrong." Clarice said, glaring at him.  
"I eat bad persons." Hanna declared.   
"Lamb, you can't tell anyone about this. Not a single person. Not your friends, not your babysitters, no one." Hannibal said.

"Ok." Hanna said. "Why?"  
"Because," Clarice said, "It's against the law to eat people."  
"Oh." Hanna said. "Mummy, lets go outside." She said, taking her mother's hand and pulling it.  
  
Hanna laughed. "Mummy wasn't too happy on the topic, was she?"  
"She became a vegetarian soon after you were born." Hannibal told her. "I found it charming, that she held on to some of her principles."   
Hanna nodded. "She really missed out, though." She said as she pulled the casserole of human brain and beef out of the oven.   
"I didn't want to pressure her." Hannibal said. "I'm just glad she let you join me."  
"She had some rules, though. The meat had to be cooked, I couldn't kill anyone, if I knew who was being served and I knew them personally, I couldn't eat it." Hanna ticked the rules off on her fingers.  
"She just wanted to protect you." Hannibal said. "She didn't want you to become a sociopath. Speaking of, didn't you turn in your report on Friday?"  
"Mmmhmmm. We'll get it back on Monday."  



	6. Cries of the Lamb

  
Hanna's body shook as she sobbed, her face buried in her hands.   
"Hanna, please tell me what's wrong." Melinda said. She'd found her friend in the school library, crying her eyes out.  
"Wizt... Report... FAILED!" Hanna wailed.   
"She gave you a failing grade on your report?!?" Melinda asked. "Why? It was wonderful!"  
"She... said it was unrealistic, and the anilizations were totally bizarre." Hanna said, hiccuping.  
"Whatever! They were original, and they made sense. She wouldn't know a good paper if it bit her in the ass."  
"She said I can re-do it tonight, and she might give me a higher grade if it's better." Hanna said, wiping the tears away. "I'm going to be here all night."   
"I'll help you." Melinda said. "She gave me a good grade."  
"She hates me. She hates me because my father won't fuck her." Hanna said bitterly.  
"What?" Melinda asked.  
"Father said she was always hitting on him, trying to get him to sleep with her. You've seen her around him. She acts like a total idiot. Even when Mummy was alive, she'd try and get him to leave her." Hanna said.  
"You're joking." Melinda was shocked. "Well... Come on, lets start."  
"Let me call Father first." Hanna said. "I've got to tell him I won't be home until late." She got up and went to the pay phones in the hall.  
"Father?" Hanna asked when he picked up.  
"Hanna Clara. Are you all right?" He asked.   
"No." She said, starting to cry again.  
"What's wrong, Lamb?" Hannibal asked. "Calm down, or you'll start to hyperventilate again."  
"Wizt gave me a failing grade on the report." Hanna said. "I've got to re-write it, and maybe I can get a higher grade. But it has to be turned in by tomorrow. I'm going to be here at the school library late."   
"Can you do that?"  
"I got special permission." Hanna said. "Father, what am I going to do? It took me over a month to write that paper! I can't do this."  
"Oh, don't cry Lamb." Hannibal said. "I'll come. I'll help."   
Hanna whimpered, and Hannibal sang softly "Hush little Lamb, your daddy is here. You'll always be safe, there's nothing to fear."  
"Thanks, Father." She said. "Bye."  
  
Hannibal strode down the hall of the nearly deserted school, and found Mimren's room quickly. "Hello, Mimren." He said.  
"Able!" She looked up from the papers she was grading. "What a surprise!"  
"I'm sure." He said, closing the door behind him as he walked in.   
"What brings you here?" She asked.  
"Oh, you'll find out." He said, smiling as he licked his lips.  



End file.
